Operation Thunderstorm

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
In the prelude to "Death on all Sides", Cpl. David Stokes finds himself and his team in trouble when they are caught inside an enemy facility where the odds of escaping are 99 to 1.

Submitted: July 11, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 11, 2012




Operation Thunderstorm

A Prelude to “Death on all Sides”




My name is Cpl. David Stokes. This is my account of one of the greatest battles never fought. As in, you’ve never heard of it.

Me and my buds were sitting around the campfire. Sgt. Grue to the right and Pvt. Elmore to the left, complete with Sgt. Pigh and Captain Nelson. We had recently come back from a mission and were telling victory stories. In particular, the story of how young Pvt. Peers was snatched and shot by an enemy infantryman.

My best friend, Cpl. Davidson, had brought me a Coke, sat down, and heard what we were talking about. “Yeah, not to bring ya’ll down or nuthin’,” he said, “but I don’t think that guy should have been with us from the start. I mean, seriously, we all knew that sumbitch was gonna get shot, right? He was a jackass! Seriously!” He was getting worked up again, so I calmed him down. We talked, laughed, and drank for who knows how long, and then something fell on the fire. Then the lights went out.

There was no screaming, only whispers. This is what they teach you to do in the Marines. We all heard Pvt. Elmore talking louder than everyone else. He was talking to Nelson. Nelson grabbed his lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. In the dim light, I could see where a bullet had gone through the left side of his right leg.

“Where the hell is Davidson?” The cry knocked me back to my senses. It was Sgt. Pigh and he looked quite pissed. It was true; Davidson was nowhere to be found. “Call Hammerhead; we need evac right now!” I yelled to Nelson, who nodded. Hammerhead, as in code for ‘5 Star’ General Hughs. The big man. Nelson put his radio away and said, “Gear up, boys, evac is here in five, 5 kilometers Northwest.” We geared up.  

I grabbed my gear and ran. We ran like silent hell through the woods. Then, I saw heads popping up in trees. “What the hell?” I whispered. We ran faster. When we got to a “clearing” we stopped. The helicopter was right above us; we got in without hesitation. Then they came out: from all directions, lighting up the jungle like the 4th of July. We retaliated, of course, but we didn’t have nearly as many men. The pilot began to lift off after several anti-tank projectiles had barely missed the helo.  

????, U.S.A.

We landed around three hours later at the airstrip that accompanied the base that was General Hughs’. The general came outside to meet us; it was the first time I’d ever seen him. As he shook my hand, I said, “It’s an honor, sir,” at which he nodded in approval. He looked like he hadn’t been affected by war at all, except for the eye-patch which was caused by a bullet gone astray down in Russia. He ordered us inside.

When we got inside, he spoke up. “So, Cpl. Davidson is gone. What a positive way to end the day!” He looked at a file briefly and said, “You five are now a part of something I like to call ‘Operation Thunderstorm’. You will all be working either separately or in two-man groups. This group right here,” he motioned at us, “will win the war. Do you hear me?” We responded with a hearty “Sir, yes sir!” He nodded again and sent us away. “Hang back a minute, Corporal.” So I did.

“You are going out before these guys.” He gave me the file he’d scanned over. “You are the lone man on this mission. You’re job is to find Davidson.” He led me over to a computer screen. “I’ve made this easy for you. I’ve found where they keep their prisoners. The problem is, they are so nervous that if they see one thing out of the ordinary, consider your friend as good as dead. All you have to do is infiltrate them, save your friend, kill all the bastards, and get back here. Do you think you can do that?” We looked each other in the eye. “Yes sir.” He motioned me away again. As I neared the door I heard, “Oh, and son?” I turned. “Don’t let them know you’re there until not one of them is left on Planet Earth.”

After twenty minutes of prepping, I was ready for the chopper. My pack consisted of my water bottle, First-Aid kit, grenades, etc. I had my Desert Eagle complete with…… scope, my M16 and my favorite, my sawed-off shotgun with an available holster that I liked to call “Pain”. The shotgun had been with me for near all of my first tour of duty and on; I was on my third. I strapped up and got on the chopper.

We rode in silence for the first thirty minutes. Then the pilot said, “When you leave, we’ll provide air support!” That was great, seeing as the whole battle was going to be in a huge building. I yelled, “When will we be there?” He replied, “Uhh…….. another forty minutes or so and then we land. You walk the rest of the way.” I nodded. I cocked my gun. Forty-five minutes later, the pilot said, “Cpl. Stokes, Operation Thunderstorm is a go!!!” I grabbed the rope and repelled silently into the trees.

I coated myself with camo paint and silently ran through the woods. About five miles ahead of me there was a patrol; another 2.5 and I would be at the prison tower. I put a suppressor on my Desert Eagle and went on. I eventually came up behind them. Thank God, there were no dogs, only two guys. I sent through them two clean shots and I buried them under some leaves.

2.5 miles later, I was at the tower. I slid up behind a guy, took him out, and took his uniform. I went in the tower.

The tower was confusing. Everyone was speaking their native language, which was not English. I walked to the elevator, looked at the numbers, and went to the second to last floor. The ride up took forever. Finally, I got there.

I went in the door and saw Cpl. Davidson in a cage. Three guards were taunting him in English. I approached, “Boys, let me take it from here.” One replied, “This is our station, but feel free to join us.” I saw no way around it, so I cooperated. I saw Davidson run up to the bars of the cage and give the guards the finger. That pissed them off, I suppose, because they got on a radio with their commanding officer. “Uh-huh…….yes, sir,……thank you, sir.” One of them said, “Boss says we have orders to kill this man.”

They went about this rather quickly. They opened the cage door, grabbed him, and one aimed a gun at him as I watched. I then came back to my senses. I put my pistol into his back and pulled the trigger. He fell to the ground. The other men were surprised as hell. I dropped the gun and bolted out of the cage as they chased me: nothing I couldn’t handle. I grabbed a pipe from the floor and hit one of them in the head. I stopped for a second and the other man drove a knife through my stomach and pinned me against the wall. I grabbed my holstered shotgun by the handle, flipped it up, and blew his head sky high. 

By then, the alarms were going off. I took off my uniform hat and put on my marine hat. Cpl. Davidson looked up and said, “Oh, hell no!” I motioned for him to come to me, “I’m getting you out of here, buddy!” I tossed him my M16 and made a run for the elevator. “It’s too late; they know we’re here, so we’re just going to have to GO!” I yelled. We were going to blitz through the first floor. The elevator stopped on the third floor. “Shit!” I yelled. We got our guns ready as the door opened.

Gunfire met our arrival. We hid in the elevator, and I threw a frag grenade into the crowd for good luck. After the explosion, we ran and took cover behind desks. We were taking some good shots, but there were too many of them! I had my Desert Eagle out for long distance. I shot until I had to reload, and then I hid. At one point I saw a bullet blow through Davidson’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground and looked at me. I made my decision: offense.

A man came up and pointed a gun at him. I yelled, “Hey!” He turned to look at me just as a barrage of shotgun pellets tore through his stomach. I looked over and saw something that looked flammable. I grabbed someone’s cigarette and threw it. The room went up in flames. I grabbed my friend and we bolted for the stairs, which was surprisingly easy. We went down to the first floor. Here’s the moment of luck; everyone heard the firing so they went up to the third floor by elevator. The first floor was almost deserted! We walked in and killed them all. All I had to take was a bullet grazing my knee! I kicked the door in and we went outside.

I had a bad feeling. We were about half a mile out, so I looked up and saw about 100 soldiers coming out the front door. Another 20 were on the top-floor with miniguns. I prayed to God, and ran like hell. Then I heard it. It was a quick buzzing noise and it killed ‘everybody’! I looked up; it was our helicopter. So that’s what they meant. In that case, thank God for air support! The helo landed and we got on. “Good to see you’re still alive, soldier!” a voice from behind me said. It was General Hughs. I looked at my friend Aron Davidson; until this moment I hadn’t really “seen” him. He was covered in bruises, scars, cuts, and was bleeding from his head and his shoulder. General Hughs turned to him and said, “Son, your country thanks you for all you have done. We are all proud.” At this moment, badass Cpl. Davidson began to cry. We flew the five or so miles back home.

Five Months Later

After we had gotten home, Aron and I received treatment for our wounds. They held a ceremony to celebrate our return; we both received Purple Hearts, while Aron also received a ‘Prisoner of War’ medal and I the coveted ‘Medal of Honor’. We still keep in touch and are still in the Marines. A couple of days after the ceremony I met a girl named Rebecca Krael.



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